“Why not?” the earth-man replied. “Their only crime is that they fought loyally for their leader. Besides, this is a free country. One of our grievances against the usurper was that he deprived us of our rifles.”
Then, to the palace soldiery: “Care tenderly for the body of Prince Yuri, and lay it out in state pending our return. Oh, and I almost forgot—there is a crazy woman bound in one of the cellar rooms. Turn her over to the mango of Kuana for incarceration in the mangool, and under peril of your lives do not permit her to escape.”
“All hail our regent! And our most beautiful and beloved princess!” shouted the guards, as Myles and Lilla left the palace.
A kerkool awaited them at the gate. Getting into this, they proceeded at a slow rate through the city and across the plaza toward the stadium through lanes of cheering Cupians. Prince Toron, Emsul, Hah Babbuh, Oya Buh, and others of their retinue followed them.
The plaza and the fields beyond were strewn with bodies—mostly in fragments—of the once great race of the Hymernians. One of these bees, as they passed it, gave sign of still possessing some life. A faint whistling noise assailed the antennae of the passing procession.
Cabot gave one look in the direction of the sound, then signed the kerkools to stop, dismounted, and approached the dying creature.
Adjusting his control to the wave length of bee speech, he sadly said, “Portheris, once my friend, whom I made king of the bees, it grieves me to see you lying thus, struck down in a war against my people.”
Raising himself feebly, the dying Portheris replied, “I bear you no malice, Myles Cabot, and I pray that you will bear me none. Although I opposed the war, yet when it came to a fight of race against race I was loyal to my own, as any honorable individual would have been under like circumstances. Perhaps it is just as well; for do you not remember that when you were driving the ant-men off the face of Cupia, you said: ‘There is no room on any given planet for more than one race of intelligent beings?’ Now the last Formian is gone, and the last of my own people is gone. May Cupia be at peace. It is the sincere wish of your old friend.”
The huge bee fell back, quivered a moment, and lay still. Thus died Portheris, the last of the Hymernians.
“May you rest beyond the waves, dear friend,” the earth-man murmured as he returned sadly to his car.